


A New Perspective

by Angstqueen



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Hurricane Katrina, M/M, New Orleans, Romance, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team has some much needed down time and Morgan decides to travel to New Orleans to lend a hand to the hurricane ravaged city while reconnecting with a relative. He invites Reid to come along. When Reid takes him up on the offer the heat cranks up in the Big Easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted at the Morgan/Reid LJ and also in the print zine One in Ten #15 published by Neon Rainbow Press, under the author name Eby.
> 
> I don't own the characters nor am I making any money off of them. This is strictly for fun and I promise to put them back at the end.

"Five days." Special Agent Derek Morgan grinned widely as he dropped down into his chair. The knowledge that he only had to get through the rest of the afternoon and then he and the rest of his teammates had a week's vacation coming rejuvenated him.

"I can't remember the last time I had that much time off," fellow profiler Spencer Reid commented.

"Hmm, I think the last time for me was when I made the move from ATF to the BAU," Morgan said. "That's been a few years now."

"So, do you have any plans?" Reid wondered. He was sure his fellow agent did, but was curious as to what they were.

"Yep." Rubbing his hands together, Derek enthused, "I'm heading to New Orleans for some fresh seafood and hard work."

"Hard work?" Spencer frowned. "What kind of vacation is that?"

Morgan laughed. "I'm going to help gut and restore a house for a Katrina family. And my mom's youngest brother is opening a seafood shack in the French Quarter. I told him I'd stop in and harass him a few times."

The younger man smiled wistfully at the mention of family. "Sounds like you'll have a good time."

Hearing the loneliness in the younger man's tone sparked an idea in Morgan. "Why don't you come with me, man?"

"M-me?" Spencer looked around, sure his co-worker had been speaking to Hotch, or even Prentiss. Seeing no one, he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I plan to catch up on some reading. Maybe write an article for a journal."

"Sounds like a load of fun," Morgan teased. "C'mon, Reid, let your hair down for once! We'll have a great time—"

"I don't need your pity, Morgan." Reid's jaw clenched in anger. Getting up from his desk, he picked up his satchel and walked for the door.

The older profiler blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? He got up and followed Reid, calling after him. "Reid! Hey, Reid, wait up!" Picking up his pace, Morgan caught up with Spencer and lightly grasped his arm.

Reid pulled free but didn't move away, his expression closed off and distant.

"Look, Spencer, I don't know where you got the idea that I pity you, but that's not reality, okay? Far from it." He gave the man's arm a slight shake, as if waking him up. "In case you hadn't noticed, I only invite friends on my vacations. If I didn't want your company, I wouldn't ask. Got it?"

"Y-yeah… got it," Reid stuttered. He wished he could bite off his tongue for letting that slip of insecurity through. There was no need for Morgan to know that his fellow profiler had been wishing for exactly this opportunity, fantasizing, even.

"Good. Enjoy your time off." With a wave, Morgan turned and headed for the door.

Knowing it was now or never, Spencer turned and called out, "Morgan, wait! That invitation… i-is it still open?"

Derek's trademark grin figuratively lit the room. "I've got a friend who's a travel agent. I'll give him a call and see what he can do. You home tonight? I'll call you with the details."

"Yes." Reid couldn't help but grin in return. Morgan's genuinely pleased reaction told him he'd made the right decision.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"They're calling our row." Spencer nudged Morgan, who stirred in his chair. Blearily acknowledging his companion, he picked up his duffel bag and got to his feet.

"Who in the hell decided that a five a.m. flight was a good idea?" the older profiler grumbled as they made their way down the jetway.

Reid snickered, knowing better than to answer the obviously rhetorical question. Derek had been the one to make the arrangements for their trip.

Derek couldn't help but grin ruefully in response. Though he could focus and be ready to respond to a crisis at a moment's notice, it was well known among his teammates that he really didn't like mornings, unless they were spent in bed sleeping. And that hadn't been an option all too often of late.

As Spencer entered the narrow door into the plane, Morgan hung back to admire the view. He mentally reflected that Reid really needed to wear jeans more often. They suited him, showing off the long, lean legs and tight ass—

Whoa! Back off, Romeo, he chided himself. He and Reid had both weathered traumatic events recently and had become closer. He'd long thought of the younger man as more than a coworker. But lately his thoughts had been veering into even more dangerous territory. And frankly, it scared the shit out of him.

Derek had just begun to recognize his growing attraction to other boys when Carl Buford had taken a special interest in him. Buford had played on that attraction, making young Derek believe his actions had invited Buford's attentions. That guilt had kept Morgan silent about the abuse until adulthood, something he would forever regret.

And although Derek was pretty certain that Spencer Reid was at the very least bisexual, the younger man had never shown signs of welcoming any advances. So while Morgan found himself attracted to Reid, he had no intention of acting on it.

Until or unless Reid makes the first move, his more daring side taunted.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Morgan and Spencer both dozed for most of the flight. When the plane started to descend toward the New Orleans Airport, Reid jerked awake, looking over to see that Derek was awake too.

"Hey, your friend lives here in New Orleans, right?" Derek asked. "What's his name? Nathan?"

"Ethan," the younger man answered.

"Gonna look him up?"

Reid looked uncertain. "I almost called him before we left. But—"

"Don't let the connection die, kid," Morgan advised. "Old friends are few and far between in our job."

"Yeah."

The plane's touchdown drove the subject from both men's minds.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Ah yes, Mr. Morgan… I have your reservation right here. Just a moment and I'll see if the room is ready." The clerk smiled as she pulled up the screen on the computer. A moment later, a slight frown pulled her brows together and she picked up the phone. Turning her back slightly to Morgan and Reid she held a brief, hushed conversation.

When she hung up she smiled once again, though it wasn't as bright this time.

"I'm so sorry but there's been a maintenance problem with your original room," she said. "We have another room ready for you and it would be at the same rate, but the accommodations would be different."

"Different how?" Morgan wondered with a frown of his own.

"For one thing, it has windows and opens onto a semi-private courtyard with a fountain," she said.

"I'm guessing that's not all, or you would have said by now." Derek arched an eyebrow at her and she flushed.

"Um, well, the thing is, it only has one bed." She held up a hand to forestall their protests. "But it's a king-sized bed. You guys wouldn't even know you were sharing, I'm sure."

For the first time, Reid made himself known. "You're sure there's no other room available?" Sleeping next to Morgan was his fantasy, but having it come true? That was not even to be thought of. No, there had to be another solution.

"I'm sorry." The clerk shook her head regretfully. "That's the only room we have available."

"We'll take it," Derek decided.

Reid looked at his companion in shock. Though he had no problem sleeping with Morgan, he had expected the other man to strenuously object.

"W-we will?" he stammered, wondering if he had slipped into another reality somewhere.

Morgan just grinned as he and the clerk went over the details. Seeing that his presence wasn't needed, Spencer drifted over to the rack of tourist brochures. He picked up several that looked interesting.

"Okay, you're all set. Here are your keys." The clerk handed over two metal keys. "You'll be in room 127. Go out the door here and take a right past the pool. Go left through the walkway and your room will be to the left, under the stairs. Enjoy your stay with us, gentlemen."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Real keys." Morgan hefted the small piece of metal in his hand. "When was the last time you saw one of these for a hotel, huh?"

Spencer shook his head. He couldn't remember ever seeing one, for that matter.

The older man led the way to their room, whistling in appreciation as they made their way over the slate- and brick-covered courtyard.

"Flynn said this place had character. He wasn't kidding." Checking the number on the key, Derek pointed to a door to their right. "Looks like this is us."

The French doors had sheer curtains covering the glass panes. Remembering the other courtyard around the pool, Morgan was grateful for the relative privacy of this one.

The room was spacious, with two padded wing-back chairs and a large armoire that when opened, revealed a television set and four drawers. There was also the usual table and chair. The ceiling light also had a fan which created a comfortable breeze in the room.

"Uh, I don't see a bathroom," Spencer noted, looking around.

"Didn't you check the hotel website?" Morgan asked, his expression serious. "There aren't any in the rooms, just one community bathroom in the main building."

"W-what?" Reid blinked, surprised. He had spent some time traveling in Europe, staying in hostels along the way. Community bathrooms weren't a new experience. It was just a surprise to find them in the States.

And then Spencer caught sight of the louvered double doors. He hadn't investigated them before because he had assumed they led to a closet. But given the lack of a bathroom, he was beginning to re-think that.

Shooting an exasperated glare at his companion, Reid grasped the doorknobs and pulled the folding doors back. He rolled his eyes, reluctantly grinning at the snicker he heard behind him as he surveyed their bathroom. The doors opened onto a counter and sink directly ahead. To the right was a large closet and to the left with the bathroom. It wasn't huge, but it would do fine.

Morgan's wide grin and the twinkling dark eyes made the minor embarrassment worthwhile to Spencer. Too often lately Morgan seemed to have to struggle to find the joy in his life. Reid admitted that he cared enough about the other man to be the occasional butt of a joke, so long as it made his friend laugh.

"What time are we meeting your cousin?" he asked, returning to the bed and unzipping his suitcase.

"I told Flynn we'd be at the restaurant around seven. Think you can be ready by then?" Morgan teased.

"Don't worry about me," Spencer shot back. "You're the one who takes an hour in the bathroom. Remember, we've roomed together before."

It was on the tip of Derek's tongue to suggest they shower together to save time. He snapped his mouth shut, wondering where in the hell that thought came from. Damn, boy, you'd better watch out. Keep this up and you might as well take out a billboard ad proclaiming you have the hots for Spencer Reid.

"Guess I'd better go first then," Morgan finally said, quickly ducking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The Blue Heron was unpretentious, as were most of the businesses in the French Quarter. Flynn Connor had found the vacant building after Hurricane Katrina and decided it would be perfect for his intentions. Getting the backers and start-up funds hadn't been too difficult and within six months he was open for business.

As the two men made their way down Rue Dauphine, the street where The Blue Heron was located, Reid was amazed at the number of tourists. When he commented on it, Derek nodded.

"It's a positive sign that the city is coming back to life. Tourists are the main economy here, so the more the better."

Spencer nodded, mentally calculating how much he could increase his spending limit while here.

"Here it is," Derek motioned a doorway to Spencer's left.

The two men entered the restaurant, Derek in the lead. He gave their names to the host, who smiled and showed them to their seats. A moment later a fair-skinned, red-headed man walked over to their table.

"Well, if it isn't the black sheep of the Connor family," the man joked, his green eyes glinting with humor.

"Flynn! You son of a bitch." Grinning widely, Derek got up and hugged the other man tightly. "The place looks great, man!"

"Thanks!" Clapping Derek once more on the back, Flynn stepped back and extended his hand to Reid. "And you must be Spencer Reid, right? I'm Flynn Connor, and this reprobate here happens to be my favorite nephew."

Spencer stood up and shook hands with the other man. "It's good to meet you, Mr. Connor. Derek's told me a lot about you."

"Please, it's Flynn. And don't believe everything you hear, okay? He's not nearly as innocent as he wants people to think." Connor grinned widely.

"Hah, funny! And by the way, I'm your only nephew and don't think I don't know it." Morgan grinned, sitting back down. Reid followed suit. "Can you join us?"

"For a while, sure. Boss's prerogative." Flynn sat in an empty chair between Morgan and Reid.

Their server arrived and took orders for drinks and appetizers.

"Order whatever you want, gentlemen, tonight it's on the house," Connor said and smiled.

"No way." Derek shook his head emphatically. "We're here to help the economy, not freeload off it, Flynn."

"Stubborn. Just like your mother!" The older man shook his head, but his expression was fond exasperation, not anger.

Morgan grinned impishly. "Must run in the family. Now, what's good to eat in this dump?"

"Oh boy." Reid hid behind his menu and slid further down in his seat.

Flynn laughed heartily.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Before too long, business had called Connor from the table. He had left regretfully, saying he'd stop back before they left.

Soon after, their meal was delivered. Reid had ordered the crawfish sampler and Morgan, the pecan crusted puppy drum. A basket of French fries accompanied each meal and their server refilled their drinks automatically. Given the early summer heat, it was welcomed.

"This is great food," Spencer enthused. "With a menu like this, your uncle shouldn't have any problem making a go of this place."

Morgan nodded in agreement, saying, "No kidding."

Both men sat back, relaxing in the laid-back atmosphere of the restaurant. Soft jazz played quietly in the background, providing atmosphere but not so loud as to drown out conversation.

"So, tell me about this house we're going to be working on?" Spencer finally asked, taking a sip of his water.

"It's in the Gentilly section of the city and most of the work will be done by law enforcement officers like us, on vacation. The organizers have been soliciting help from police, FBI, and other federal agencies all over the country," Morgan explained. "We each agreed to dedicate at least one week's vacation to rebuilding a home for a Katrina family. I heard there's also some college frats helping out, too."

Spencer nodded. "It's definitely a worthy cause. Nearly two years later and there's still a lot of work to be done."

"Yeah." Derek played with his empty glass, then said, "You know, you don't have to feel obligated to help out, Reid. I know you didn't sign up for this. If you'd rather go sightseeing, or hang out with your friend, that's cool with me. I'm happy you agreed to make the trip with me."

Before Reid could answer, Flynn was back at their table, apologizing for the long absence. He had a tray of desserts with him, showing them off with pride.

"Pick anything you like," he instructed.

"Oh, no way," Derek groaned, holding a hand over his stomach. "I eat any more and I'm gonna explode, man."

"Me, too," Reid chimed in. "As it is, I think we'll be taking the long way back to our hotel."

Flynn looked them over, then seemed to come to some decision within himself. "Well, if it's exercise you're looking for, I know a place where you can dance off as many calories as you'd like. It's called The Fleur de Lis and it's on the lower end of Bourbon Street. They have a live band every night, no canned music for them."

"Sounds good," Derek said and nodded. Looking at his companion, he asked, "You game for some night action?"

Reid shrugged. "Sure." He wasn't overly enthusiastic, but it beat staying alone in a hotel room, even one with character.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Getting in to the club wasn't as hard as Morgan would have thought. The place was crowded but not overly so. Still, he noted that Reid kept close to him. On one level it amused him, but on another level it roused his protective instincts. He knew the younger man would be out of his comfort zone here, for sure.

As they headed to an open table, Spencer was giving him a running dialogue on the historical and modern day significance of blues music. Some of the words to the song currently playing were also filtering into Morgan's brain. He had noticed that some of the couples were same-sex and he looked over at Reid, wondering if he was aware.

If the wide eyes and sharply indrawn breath were an indication then the younger man had definitely noticed. But his reaction was more startled than bothered and Morgan decided the ball was in Reid's corner. If he wanted to leave he was more than capable of expressing that.

Morgan stopped a waitress before they sat down, requesting two draft beers. She nodded and headed to the bar.

"You okay?" Derek quietly asked.

Their drinks arrived, and Morgan handed over payment.

"I'm fine. Why would you ask?" Reid looked confused.

Before Morgan could form an answer, a young Asian man approached their table. He smiled politely at Morgan before turning to Reid.

"Care to dance with me?" the stranger asked, holding out his hand. He hastily added, "If I'm not poaching, that is."

"Poaching? Wha—? No." Reid shook his head. "No, you're not poaching, but I'm not interested. Thanks, though." He smiled, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

Derek clamped down on the surge of jealousy that flared through him at the invitation. After all, he had no claim to Reid's time or choices. However, the more rational part of his brain nudged at him, reminding him that the other guy had opened the door for a previously taboo conversation.

Once the guy was out of earshot, Morgan took a casual sip of his beer. Keeping his tone light, he asked, "Why didn't you go with him? Was it because he's a guy?"

"No! It's— I—" Reid shook his head in frustration. "I was so sure he was going to ask you that I wasn't thinking clearly. Besides, I don't dance very well."

"C'mon, I don't believe that for a second," the older man scoffed. The band changed songs and Derek got to his feet. Reaching down, he grasped Spencer's hand and pulled him up. Ignoring the other man's startled protest he guided them toward the dance floor.

"Morgan…" Spencer realized he couldn't back out now without causing a scene.

"Just go with it, Reid… please?" The dark eyes held an unreadable expression as Derek began moving them with the music. "If you're really that uncomfortable when the song's over we'll leave, okay?"

With a terse nod, Spencer settled into Morgan's arms and focused on following the music.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Derek wasn't at all surprised to find that despite his protests, Reid was actually an accomplished dancer. And amazingly the younger man didn't fight when he took the lead.

"You said you couldn't dance," Morgan murmured. "You lied."

"I— I didn't lie, exactly," the other man stammered. "It's just… it's been a long time since I've had the opportunity. And… most women prefer men to lead. I— I'm not good at that."

"I can teach you," Derek offered.

"You would do that?" Spencer smiled shyly.

"Sure thing. Give you private lessons, even." Morgan winked, privately pleased at the flush that spread across the younger man's face. He let the subject drop, not wanting to drive Reid away.

They danced another song following that, one with a slower tempo.

To Morgan's surprise, Spencer eased closer. Closing his eyes, Derek savored the feeling of holding someone he cared about. It had been too long.

Apparently he cared too much, and as the song drew to a close Morgan excused himself, claiming a need for the john. He could only hope they hadn't been dancing so closely that Spencer had the chance to notice his erection.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Reid frowned, watching his companion's stiff walk to the men's room. Had he done something inappropriate? He didn't think he had, but then again it was hard to tell. Morgan could get very defensive and closed off sometimes, without much warning.

Spencer's shoulders sagged and he sighed with frustration. He shouldn't have moved closer. If he had kept things lighter between them, tried to keep cracking jokes, maybe Derek wouldn't have felt so pressured.

He snuck a glance toward the exit, wondering if he could make an escape before Morgan reappeared. Spencer knew he could find his way back to the hotel on his own. He had only taken two steps when two young ladies suddenly appeared in his pathway.

"You can't be leaving yet!" one of them pouted. She was an attractive red-head with green eyes and a charming smile.

"Besides, I think your friend would be disappointed if he came back and you were gone," her dark-haired companion noted.

"Uh, well…" Spencer swallowed hard. He wasn't used to being the center of attention like this and it made him very uneasy.

"Dance with us," the red-head asked. "I'm Trixie. My friend is Deena."

"I'm not very good," Reid tried to warn.

"That's not true," Deena chided. "We were watching you guys. You were fine. C'mon! What's the harm?"

Deciding that, at the very least, they would keep his mind off Derek, Spencer agreed. Fortunately the song was more upbeat and not a slow number. He concentrated more on the beat and less on himself and soon found he was actually having fun.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The music from the dance floor was piped into the rest room and Derek tried to focus on it rather than his aching cock as he ducked into a stall and locked the door behind him. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, unzipping his jeans and reaching for his cock.

He imagined it was Reid's hand on him instead of his own, and after a few hard strokes, Morgan was coming with a grunt into a wad of toilet paper.

Knowing if he took any longer, Reid was likely to check on him, Morgan cleaned himself up as quickly and thoroughly as possible and headed back out to the dance floor.

Let the torture continue, he told himself humorlessly.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The song had ended a few minutes ago and Reid had excused himself from Trixie and Deena, pleading exhaustion. He had made his way back to their table, hoping to find Morgan there, but it was empty. With a frown, he searched the room. It was crowded, but Derek Morgan didn't exactly blend in with his height and striking good looks.

Down boy, Spencer told himself. You focus too much on those good looks and this trip is going to be harder to survive than you expected.

"Looking for someone?" an amused voice asked from behind.

Spencer jumped, startled, even as he recognized Morgan's voice.

"Yes. You, as a matter of fact." Reid smiled nervously. "I was beginning to think I'd been stood up."

Before Derek could respond, two women approached their table.

"Ready for round two, Spencer?" the red head asked.

"Uh, Derek, meet Trixie, and her friend Deena." Reid made the introductions. "They kept me company while you were… busy."

"Come on," Deena begged, grabbing Spencer's hand. "Dance with us!"

Trixie extended a hand to Morgan, who shrugged. "Why not?" Flashing his trademark grin, he escorted the young woman out to the dance floor, maneuvering so he could keep an eye on Reid and his companion.

Derek watched as the younger man danced with apparent ease. It stirred a strong current of jealousy within him, making him realize that he needed to tell Spencer how he felt. Even if nothing came of it, the other man deserved to know.

Trixie followed his gaze, wondering at first if he was watching Deena. She pouted, thinking he was displeased with his choice. But as she studied her companion, she realized it wasn't her friend he was eyeing, but Spencer.

She hid her smile. Men. They just had no idea how to communicate with each other. When she had first spotted the pair tonight, she was sure they were a couple, they seemed so comfortable together. But as the evening progressed, she realized the intimacy of a couple was missing. Though she suspected not for lack of wanting, given how they looked at each other. Maybe she could help them along a bit…

Leaning forward, she whispered in Derek's ear, "You should tell him, y'know. Life is too short to wonder what might have been."

Before he could respond, she steered them toward Spencer and Deena. Without missing a beat, she broke out of Morgan's embrace and urged him into Reid's arms, before turning and walking away with Deena.

Spencer looked a bit stunned and Derek couldn't help laughing as he pulled the younger man closer.

"Relax, kid," he urged. "I won't bite."

Reid fought down a shiver as he found himself wishing Morgan would bite.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

After a few more songs, both men decided to call it a night. They shared a quiet but comfortable walk back to their hotel, taking in the sounds and sights of the French Quarter after dark.

As they drew closer to the Place D'Arms, they saw a small group of people in front of the hotel, gathered around a tall, blond man dressed entirely in black. Derek and Spencer paused for a moment to listen to the man's speech about the hotel's resident ghost. After he was through and the crowd began to move on, the two men headed for the door leading to the entrance courtyard of the hotel.

"You know… New Orleans is the most haunted city in the US," Reid pointed out.

"Is that so?" Morgan asked as they headed back the stone archway toward their room. "Well, if any ghosts show up in our room you can talk to them. I'm so tired I doubt I'll notice them."

Spencer chuckled, imagining his friend sleeping through an otherworldly conversation.

Derek couldn't help but grin in return. He loved the younger man's laugh, but Reid didn't do it often enough. Then again, it wasn't like their jobs gave them much opportunity for mirth.

He resolved to try to create more situations where Reid could find humor.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They prepared for bed in comfortable silence. They had shared hotel rooms in the past and out of habit Derek chose the side closest to the door, leaving Spencer closest to the bathroom.

Derek lay on his back, aware of the minutes passing by as he tried to unwind and fall asleep. He knew that part of the problem was his attraction to Reid, and the younger man's proximity. Even in a king-sized bed, he was keenly aware he only needed to roll over, reach out his arm and he could touch Spencer. And predictably, his body began to respond to that awareness.

Unknown to Morgan, Reid was having much the same problem. The younger man lay on his side, facing the wall. There was no way he could sleep in his normal position because that would mean facing Morgan. And he was already having enough trouble keeping his composure around the other man.

They had been working together for a few years now and Spencer had discovered early on that there was more to Derek Morgan than that blazing white smile and suave player attitude. But Reid was smart enough to realize that a man like Morgan would have no reason to look twice at Spencer Reid even if he were gay.

After more than half an hour of lying in the dark, knowing that neither of them was sleeping, Spencer finally decided to satisfy his curiosity about the other man.

"Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you—?" Reid swallowed, then tried again. "Have you ever kissed a man?" It came out in a rush, but finally it was out there.

"What? Why are you asking?" Morgan's tone wasn't annoyed, merely curious.

Spencer felt his face flush and was glad there wasn't much light for Morgan to see it as he answered, "Just wondering."

Silence stretched between them, long enough for Reid to decide that there wasn't going to be any answer. Then Morgan cleared his throat.

"Hey, Spencer…"

"Yeah?"

"The answer is yes, I've kissed a man." There was definite amusement in the tone.

"Oh." Remembering Carl Buford and the abuse, Spencer hesitantly asked, "But was it because you wanted to?"

"Oh yeah, very much so." Morgan rolled over to face the younger man, who was now laying on his back. "What about you?"

"Me? You mean—?"

"Yeah, ever kissed a man?"

Spencer cleared his throat again. He should have expected this question. Why hadn't he seen it coming?

"No. I, uh, never really wanted to. Well, actually that's not true. There was someone – once. But I never got up the nerve to find out if he might be interested in me." Reid paused for a moment, staring at the ceiling to avoid Morgan's all too perceptive eyes. Unable to stop, he rambled, "He's gay, but I'm not, and I figured— Well, I guess maybe I'm bisexual. Can you consider yourself bi if you've only had heterosexual sex, but then you've thought about, maybe even… fantasized about being with another man? I mean, how do you know—"

"Spencer… Aw, hell." Derek leaned up and over, kissing Reid and silencing the outpouring. When the younger man didn't respond, apparently frozen in shock, Derek pulled away, regretting the impulse that likely just cost him a damned good friend.

The loss of contact spurred Reid to act. Wrapping his arms quickly around the larger man, he pulled Derek down, initiating his own kiss. Spencer opened his mouth to deepen the contact, grasping Derek's head between his hands. He ground his lips against Morgan's in sheer desperation, to the point of being painful.

Morgan pulled back again. "Easy, Tiger."

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry," Reid stammered his apology.

"Hey, it's okay." Derek grabbed the other man before Spencer could bolt from the bed. "It's okay. Just slow down a little. We have all night."

"Yeah? I— I thought—"

Morgan tugged Reid back into his arms, glad there was no resistance. "I know what you thought. But I want this too, Spencer. I just want to take some time, that's all. Enjoy it, you know?"

"Yeah." Reid smiled shyly. "Can I try again?"

Derek chuckled. "You'd better! I'd be damned disappointed if you didn't."

Spencer's smile grew wider and he leaned forward, brushing his lips against Derek's. An encouraging moan from Morgan gave him the courage to try again, this time with more pressure.

Derek opened his mouth under the gentle assault, eager to reciprocate. Their kiss this time was fueled by desire, not desperation.

When Reid finally pulled back, Morgan whispered, "How far do you want to take this?"

The younger man cleared his throat, but answered strongly, "As far as we can."

Nodding, Morgan slipped out of bed and stripped out of his undershirt and boxers.

There was just enough light coming in from the outside to allow Spencer a look at the other man's well-muscled body. He glanced up to find Derek watching him, his expression unreadable.

"You're so beautiful," Reid whispered. "My God…"

"Hey, you're not exactly ugly, you know," Morgan chided.

"No, but my body's nothing like yours." Spencer looked down at his torso. He was actually embarrassed to get undressed now.

"Thank God." Morgan grasped Reid's closest hand and gently drew him to his feet. "I have to tell you it'd be damned creepy, making love to my twin."

Reid couldn't help it, he giggled. He knew it had been Morgan's intent and it still worked. More relaxed now, he let Derek help him out of his clothes. Once his T-shirt was stripped off, Derek bent to kiss along his collarbone, occasionally suckling the sensitive skin. He continued across Reid's throat to his other collarbone. He used the distraction to tug Spencer's pajama bottoms and briefs off in one move.

Morgan drew Reid's lean body closer, burying one hand in the other man's long hair while the other skimmed down Spencer's back, cupping one ass cheek. He pulled Reid as close as possible, then kissed him, reveling in the moan it produced.

Spencer didn't even realize Morgan was moving him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. He automatically sat down, surprised when Derek followed to kneel on the floor in front of him.

"Do you trust me?" the older man asked, moving between Reid's legs.

"Yes." The answer was strong and without hesitation.

"Then believe me when I tell you that the best relationship is equal – give and take between the partners. But sometimes one partner gives without expecting reciprocation." Derek touched Reid's face with one hand as the other slowly stroked Spencer's cock. "You don't keep score of who came and who didn't. If you want me to do something, just ask. If you want to try something, suggest it. If you don't like something…" He rose up to look Reid directly in the eyes. "You better damn sure tell me no or stop."

Reid nodded his head, as Derek's work on his erection wasn't leaving much of his mind working.

"Good." Smiling with satisfaction, Derek went back to his knees and lowered his head to take Reid into his mouth.

"Oh, gawdd," Reid moaned and couldn't stop himself from leaning back on the bed.

Morgan took hold of his own erection as he continued working Reid's cock with his mouth and hand. Speeding up on both his tasks, Derek brought Spencer over the edge only seconds before he spilled his own load onto the carpet.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Once they were cleaned up and settled back in bed, Morgan asked, "So, did you ever think about us together? Before tonight, I mean."

Reid lay curled against Derek's side, his hand resting on the well-muscled chest. "Yeah. Remember earlier? When I mentioned fantasizing? Well, you've been the star in every one for a while now."

"What? Why didn't you ever say something?" Morgan wondered, shocked.

"I almost did, on more than one occasion." Reid shrugged. "But you were always with a different woman… and then we found out about Buford. I just didn't think you'd be interested in a relationship with a guy."

Derek remained quiet for some time, carding his fingers through Spencer's hair. When he finally did speak, his voice was hushed.

"For a long time I figured God was using Buford to punish me. To show me how evil and wrong I was because I'd been thinking about touching other boys, and wanting them to touch me."

"Sounds like something… someone changed your mind?" Spencer gently prodded.

"Yeah." There was a definite smile in Derek's voice now. "I met Chris. He showed me there wasn't anything wrong with me, or the way I felt about guys."

"Good for him. And you." Spencer stole a quick, chaste kiss. "Whatever happened to him, do you know?"

"It's been a couple of years but last I heard he was living happily in New York City with a nurse named Peter. They were talking about a commitment ceremony."

They fell silent after that, drifting off to sleep still curled close together.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Spencer woke gradually, aware of several things in no particular order. He wasn't in his own bed, it was light, and he wasn't alone. Not only did he have a bed partner, but he was partially draped over said person. Memory returned. Last night. The club. Derek. That awareness snapped his eyes open and he felt a flush suffuse his face when he realized he was being intently studied.

"Good morning," Derek rumbled, reaching over to plant a chaste kiss on Reid's lips.

"Morning." Spencer smiled tentatively. He was so relieved to discover that the previous night's activities hadn't been some overblown wet dream that he was almost oblivious to Morgan's lecherous grin.

Feeling somewhat daring, Reid leaned forward and claimed a kiss of his own, and there was nothing chaste about it.

Morgan pulled him into an embrace, moaning into the kiss as it heated up. As Derek moved to roll them over so he could have a better angle to explore, he caught sight of the alarm clock. He pulled back, ignoring Reid's grunt of protest.

"The van's going to be here at eight," Morgan explained. "If we want breakfast, we gotta move our asses, Spence."

"Damn," the younger man muttered, recalling the reason for their visit to New Orleans in the first place. "So, who gets the shower first?"

Derek grinned wolfishly. "Ever shared a shower before?"

Spencer gulped. "Uh, not without getting my ass kicked."

Morgan's expression saddened and he kissed Spencer once more. "I'm sorry, Spence. I—"

"Ancient history," the other man said, managing a smile. "Besides, sharing a shower is environmentally friendly."

Derek shook his head, amazed at how easily Reid seemed to shrug off incidents like most people take off a jacket.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Reid discovered he thoroughly enjoyed shower sex and might have tried for a second round except that Derek's stomach rumbled. Loudly. They both laughed and got out, quickly drying off and dressing.

Morgan quirked an eyebrow at his companion's – lover's? – choice of clothing – faded jeans and a dark blue BAU T-shirt. The jeans fit well and were just shy of threadbare in all the right places.

"I don't know if I can let you go out like that," Derek mused, drawing Spencer close for another kiss.

"What? Are you kidding me?" Reid protested. "After some of the jeans I've seen you in, these are modest."

Morgan's own jeans were just as faded but still intact with a looser fit. He knew he needed to be able to move freely. He'd opted for an old maroon polo shirt that he kept for painting his house.

"Yeah, but it's not the jeans I'm objecting to." With a smirk at Reid's confusion, Derek continued, "It's the folks who are gonna be looking at you in them."

Spencer rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Morgan blinked in astonishment as he watched Reid head to the serving table for another croissant. That had to be at least his fifth. And he loaded them with butter and jam. How could someone so skinny put so much away and stay that skinny? And more to the point, how in the hell did he manage to wear those sinful jeans?

He was still shaking his head in amazement as Spencer sat down and took a bite from the flaky pastry.

"What?" Reid asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"I just never saw you eat so much before."

"These are good! Have you tried one?" Spencer held out a bit, and Derek accepted it, trapping Reid's hand in his and licking the jam from his fingers.

This close, Morgan could hear the startled intake of breath as well as see Spencer's pupils dilate and he fought to hide his smile. The younger man was incredibly responsive.

"Umm, shouldn't the van be here soon?" Reid finally managed, jerking his hand back.

"Shit, you're right." Morgan usually relished the challenge of rebuilding a house, but he had to admit, it paled in consideration of what he and Spencer had going. Still, they had committed to help, and it was desperately needed.

They hurriedly stacked their dishes on the counter, left tips for the attendant and rushed out to the front of the hotel.

No sooner did they clear the door than a light blue van marked "Holy Cross East" pulled to the curb across the street. The driver, a middle-aged woman with red hair and green eyes, rolled down the window.

"Morgan and Reid?" she checked.

"Yep, that's us," Morgan answered. Checking for traffic, he quickly crossed the street with Spencer close behind.

The woman hopped out and walked around to open the sliding door on the sidewalk side of the van. She extended her hand to Morgan, then Reid. "Maude Deveraux. I understand you're both FBI?"

"Yes, ma'am," Reid responded.

Maude chuckled wryly. "Well, at least some parts of the government haven't abandoned us." She gestured towards the interior. "Hop on in."

Reid went first, nodding politely to three college-aged women who already sat in the back row. Morgan also gave them a wave before joining his friend.

The van made one more stop to pick up a young couple before heading on to their destination. As they drove through the neighborhood, Morgan whistled lowly at the scope of the devastation. Like most of the rest of the country, he had seen the videos and pictures, but those paled in comparison with actually seeing it in person.

They got out and joined the rest of the volunteers, gathered around a woman wearing a religious collar.

"Welcome to our newcomers in the back," she said. "I'm Pastor Joy Cole and it's good to see all of you. The folks we're going to be helping today are Dixie Charles and her son, Sam. Sam lost his sight due to head trauma from debris during the storm. He's still with relatives in Texas, going through rehabilitation but Dixie here came back so she could contribute to the work on the house. So what say we help them out?" She put a hand to her ear, clearly expecting some response.

The crowd reacted as expected, breaking into enthusiastic yells and whistles. Pastor Joy smiled, hugging Dixie close.

Dixie wiped tears from her eyes as she addressed the group. "I can't thank y'all enough for this. Without your help, Sam and I would have to leave our city and start over. Bless y'all for doin' this. Bless you!"

After a brief word of prayer they were divided into groups and assigned their tasks.

Derek was among the group ripping out mold and mud-crusted dry wall while Spencer was handling one of the large wheelbarrows hauling out debris. There was a lot to do, but the sheer number of hands willing to help ease the work load.

Two of the college women who had shared the van ride were in the group with Derek, working on the second floor. Though they worked fairly steadily, their labor was punctuated with bursts of giggles and barely audible whispers. After feeling the familiar itch between his shoulder blades that meant he was being watched, Morgan realized he was their focus.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Derek tried to concentrate on his task and ignore the young women. That was easier said than done as they took every opportunity to stray into his work area and immediately become clumsy in his presence. He found it hard to suppress a yelp when a hand palmed his ass, supposedly missing when reaching for a nearby support beam.

He shot the girl his best annoyed glare and then treated her friend to the same and though the giggles continued, there were no further incursions into his workspace.

The next hour passed in relative silence until Morgan heard a genuine yell of distress from one of the girls. Looking over, he saw both girls on the floor, looking chagrined under a layer of dust. He was glad for the cover of the mask, knowing it hid his smile.

"You ladies okay?" he asked, reaching to give the closest one a hand up.

"Fine," she grumbled, dusting herself off and helping her friend to her feet.

"What happened?" Morgan wondered. Taking a closer look inside the wall, he frowned as he saw light reflecting off metal. Something was in there.

Reaching in, he pulled it out. It was an old tin can with a metal lid. Looked like it might have been a tobacco can though the outside was painted over and no label was visible.

He was about to pull the lid off when someone yelled from outside.

"Lunchtime!"

Morgan looked at his watch, surprised to see that it was just past 11:30. Stripping off his protective facemask, Derek headed outside, still holding the can. He quickly spotted Spencer sitting under a large shade tree, obviously savoring a chilled bottled water.

"Hey," he said, dropping down next to Reid.

"Hey yourself." Reid handed over a fresh bottle, smirking at Derek's moan of pleasure as he took a long swallow.

"That's so good. Thanks." Setting aside the water, Derek focused on the can he still held.

"What's that?" Spencer wondered.

"Don't know. It was behind the wall upstairs in the bedroom." It took some doing, but he was finally able to pry the lid off. Instead of removing it entirely, he looked around for Dixie. 

Spotting her, he got to his feet and called out, "Ms. Dixie!"

The woman had been passing out refreshments to the volunteers and at Morgan's call, she headed in their direction.

"Hello, boys," she greeted warmly. "Thanks so much for what you're doin'—"

"We're happy to help out," Derek assured. Holding the can out, he added, "This belongs to you. We found it in the wall of the bedroom. I, uh, opened it but didn't take the lid off; figured it was none of my business."

"Oh." Dixie covered her mouth with her hands. "I recognize that can! Well, that type at least. My late husband was always puttin' things in safe places and forgettin' them. He didn't trust banks, y' see." Her hands were shaking as she took the lid off. Her soft gasp alerted Morgan.

"Ms. Dixie, is everything okay?" he asked, reaching out to touch her arm.

"Oh, son, it's more than all right," the woman whispered. She pulled out a handful of papers and photographs. Tears blurred her eyes as she looked through them. "He must have put this in the wall when we re-did it after a storm, twenty years ago," she murmured.

"Looks like those pictures aren't all he left you," Morgan said. He could see there was still something in the can.

"What? Oh, my word!" Dixie gasped as Derek pulled out several savings bonds. He handed them to her with a smile.

"I'm guessing these might help you with the cost of refurnishing the place, when you get around to it," he said.

The older woman nodded absently, her focus returning to the photographs. She looked through them again. "I thought I'd lost these pictures for good. They're all I have left of Henry now." Looking up at Morgan, she smiled. "Thank you, son."

Derek shook his head, unwilling to take the credit. "Wasn't just me, Ms. Dixie. The girls…" He nodded towards where the college students had gathered. "…well, they were the ones who broke through the wall. I just lifted it out and took the lid off."

Dixie caressed his cheek. "Still, thank you."

Derek watched as she headed over to talk to the girls and then returned to Spencer. He could feel the girls watching him, and groaned, knowing instinctively that Dixie had mentioned him giving them credit for finding the can.

"Here, I've got another water for you." Spencer held out a fresh cold bottled water, watching as Derek opened it and took several long gulps, warily eyeing the now-giggling college girls as they picked their own spot and spread out. Thankfully under a different tree.

Noting Derek's gaze, Spencer quietly asked, "Problems?"

"Not really," the older man shrugged. "Just make sure you stay between me and them, okay? And make note of where their hands are at all times."

Spencer choked on his mouthful of water. The surge of jealousy that washed through him was quickly checked by the realization that Derek didn't want their attention, and in fact preferred to avoid it.

A few minutes later, some volunteers were distributing po' boys and chips. Morgan chose roast beef while Reid chose crawfish. Whole dill pickles had been included with the meals. Not being fond of them, Morgan had set his pickle aside only to find it grabbed up by his companion.

A low moan caught Derek off-guard and he turned to see Reid innocently sucking on the end of the pickled. Morgan's eyes widened as his dick responded to the phallic imagery.

"Stop that," he growled.

"Wha—?" Spencer looked down, a bit flustered as he realized the problem. "Uh.., sorry. I didn't realize. I mean, until last night I hadn't really thought— you know— that is—"

Groaning in frustration, Morgan grabbed Reid's T-shirt and pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. Spencer tensed at first before relaxing against his lover, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

It was highly effective in more than one way. It served to release some of Morgan's sexual tension and it also made it clear that they were together.

When they broke apart, Spencer smirked as he heard the college girls muttering.

"Damn, why do all the cute ones have to be gay?" one of the women lamented. Her friends sympathized with her and they turned their attention back to their meals. There was much time left to the lunch break.

As Reid got up to return to his tasks, he fought a surge of anxiety. Derek had kissed him. Hell, damned near molested him. Not that he was complaining any, he'd made a similar effort in return. But that wasn't what had the hair on the nape of his neck on end.

Well, not exactly. He wasn't sorry it had happened. Spencer wasn't even sorry that it had happened in a public place. His concern rested with the fact that there were other law enforcement officers here.

Granted, they weren't on duty. But it was unknown territory. Reid could quote statistics and facts on the reactions of random officers who had witnessed such in-your-face displays such as he and Derek had put on.

What if there was a confrontation? When it came to that sort of thing, Spencer knew he was nowhere near Derek's level of competence. He wasn't untrained, but hand-to-hand had never been his forte. And what if Derek got hurt? Or worse, what if someone decided to report them higher up the food chain, where career damage could be done? Oh, God—

He jumped as a hand suddenly squeezed his shoulder. If he'd been wearing his weapon, Reid could guarantee it would have been in his hand, ready to fire. But then a well-known and trusted voice soothed him.

"Hey, relax, okay? We're okay." At Reid's disbelieving voice, Morgan rolled his eyes. "It's New Orleans. You think we're the only ones? Take a look around."

Morgan ran a hand down Spencer's back in a gesture that soothed and yet was startlingly intimate at the same time. And as he walked away, Reid thought back over the day and considered the actions of some of the other volunteers. To his relief he realized Morgan was right.

Still, he decided to be more cautious where Morgan was concerned. No use rubbing salt in any wounds.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Derek saw his lover freeze and given what had just happened, it wasn't hard to figure what was on the other man's mind. Normally Derek might have shared that anxiety, but the profiler in him never went off-duty and he had picked out at least three other same-sex pairings among the volunteers, two of them with the law enforcement contingent.

A few of the volunteers looked uncomfortable, but none looked bothered enough to make an issue of it. Derek hoped it stayed that way. He didn't want Spencer to have to deal with another layer of stereotyping or prejudice.

After reassuring Spencer, Derek guided both of them back inside to their assigned chores.

The rest of the day passed in relative peace. Relative, because he kept thinking about what he wanted to do to Spencer when they got back to their room tonight.

But at least the women made no more attempts at his virtue. If any of the men were interested, they wisely kept their distance.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Morgan let Reid enter their room first. Once the door was shut firmly behind him, he leaned against it with a relieved sigh.

"Thank God! I bet I have bruises from those damned women and their grabby hands."

Spencer chuckled. "Must be hard, being so irresistible."

"I wouldn't know. I was too busy wishing the right person was the one with the grabby hands," Morgan teased. Closing the distance between them, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss against Spencer's lips.

"Really?" the younger man said, honestly surprised. Color suffused his face. "I, uh, have to admit that the thought occurred. More than once, even, especially after your display of possession."

"Hey, you liked that display! And what's stopping you now?" Before the last word was uttered, Derek found himself with an armful of Spencer Reid, being kissed with a passion he hadn't expected.

Morgan returned it with enthusiasm, secretly thrilled that Spencer seemed comfortable enough with the thought of them to initiate the contact.

They broke apart, helping each other strip and then Reid froze.

"Spence, what is it?" Derek wondered.

"I'm a sweaty mess," the younger man pointed out. "Are you sure you—"

Morgan grinned, pulling his lover closer and kissing him again. He made a production of sniffing Reid's face and neck, grinning as Spencer squirmed in protest. "Doesn't bother me in the least," he finally said, his eyes alight with humor and affection. "In fact, I think it's sexy as hell. If it doesn't bother you—"

If asked, Morgan couldn't say who had maneuvered them onto the bed. And it really didn't matter either. Their coupling was quick and frenetic and left both gasping for breath.

"Is it always going to be like this?" Spencer wondered, once his higher brain function had mostly returned.

"Nah." Morgan grinned widely. "Sometimes it'll be even quicker."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They showered together, though neither was up for more than kissing and exploring. Reid finished in the bathroom first and headed out to get dressed. While he waited for Derek to catch up, he called his friend Ethan. He was a bit disappointed when the machine picked up but left a message. They still had time to get together.

Dinner by mutual agreement was at the Blue Heron once again. This time both men decided to try the N'awlins Sampler. The day's exertion boosted their appetites and the plates were just about wiped clean.

Their server stopped by, smiling broadly. "Would you gentlemen care to see our dessert menu?"

"Mmm, I'll have the bread pudding with rum sauce," Spencer said, not even needing to look.

Morgan raised his eyebrows at the choice. "I'll just have a scoop of vanilla and chocolate ice cream, topped with hot fudge."

They fell into a comfortable silence until their dessert arrived.

"So, what do you want to do with the rest of the night?" Morgan wondered as they dug in to the sweets.

"I don't know," Reid confessed. "I'm not really sure I want to go out dancing though. I don't think I have the energy."

Derek considered teasing the younger man, but decided to be honest instead. "I'm so glad you said that, man. I wasn't looking forward to it, either."

They chuckled as they settled the bill and headed out into the muggy heat of evening.

When they got back to the hotel and walked through the courtyard to their room, Spencer noticed the pool was empty.

"Do you think—? Could we go swimming for a while?" he suggested.

Morgan grinned. "Great idea."

They quickly headed to the room to get changed and fetch their towels. There was still no one in the small pool when they returned.

Reid stuck a foot in, yelping at the coolness of it.

'"It'll feel better once you're used to it," Derek promised, wading in.

They stayed in the pool for nearly an hour before the chill finally chased them back to the room. They stripped and dried off quickly before climbing under the covers.

Both were too tired for anything more than a kiss and within minutes they had fallen asleep.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Spencer woke slowly from his dream, smiling as he recalled enough of it to realize it had been pleasant. It made a nice change from the hellish nightmares he so often struggled with.

He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand – 4:06 a.m. Too early to get up and yet he was wide awake. Rolling over, he discovered his dream hadn't been a fantasy this time. He was actually naked in bed with an equally nude Derek Morgan.

Reid grinned widely. Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped under the cover, pressing his lips to the base of Derek's spine, then slowly moving upward. A low sound, almost a purr, came from Morgan. As Spencer kissed the nape of his neck, Derek rolled over to capture the mouth that had so sweetly roused him from sleep.

"Hmm, what time is it?" Derek asked between playful nips at Spencer's lower lip.

"A little past four. But I can't sleep," Spencer stated the obvious.

"So I noticed." Morgan grinned, feeling his lover's hard cock against his hip. He shifted his body, shamelessly rubbing against Spencer's erection.

The younger man threw his leg over Derek's, enabling him to hump harder against the well-muscled body.

"What do you want, babe?" Morgan asked.

"Fuck me," Reid answered after a brief hesitation.

Pulling the other man close for a thorough kiss, Morgan whispered, "Uh-unh, tell me what you really want."

Spencer hid his face against Derek's neck while he mumbled his answer.

"Hey, no hiding," Morgan said, shifting so he could lift Spencer's chin. "Not about this. Tell me again what you want. Please?"

"To fuck you," Reid whispered, unable to meet Derek's gaze.

The older man grinned widely. "Thought you'd never ask."

'"Are you sure?"

Grasping Reid's hand, Derek guided it down to his still-hard erection. He grinned as the younger man swallowed hard. "Does that feel like I'm even mildly unsure?" Morgan asked, fighting the urge to thrust.

Spencer groaned, feeling his own dick twitch in response. "Lube? Condoms?"

Grinning wolfishly, Derek reached over into the drawer of the nightstand closest to him. Withdrawing the requested items, he handed them to Spencer. "Both, naturally."

"Boy scout!" Spencer teased.

"Yep. Good thing, too." Morgan initiated another kiss. "'Cause I've been waiting a long time for this. Don't think I can wait any longer."

That startled the younger man and he blinked several times.

"You've been… waiting?" Spencer cleared his throat. "For me?"

"Yeah, Spencer, for you." Derek pulled the younger man into another kiss, wanting to convince him.

When they finally broke apart, Reid grinned. "I think I believe you. And I can tell how much you want it." He brushed a hand over Derek's erection, smirking as the other man hissed and arched into the touch, wanting more.

"Oh yeah. I definitely want it," Morgan growled. He grabbed the condom from Spencer and unwrapped it. As he rolled it over Spencer's erection, he took time to explore, fondling the soft sacs underneath.

"Careful," Spencer warned. "Unless you don't want…" He let his voice trail off, giving Derek the option.

The questing hand immediately withdrew and settled on Reid's hip instead. "I want it," Morgan assured. "It's just that—"

Spencer didn't push. For once he kept silent, choosing to let Derek continue on his own.

"I need to see you, Spencer." It came out in a rush, and Morgan went on as if a dam had been breached. "It can't ever be from behind. I don't— I can't—" He blinked, feeling absurd as tears welled.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay." Reid leaned forward, brushing a kiss against Morgan's lips. "However you want it is fine with me, Derek."

The other man nodded jerkily, breathing out with a sharp gust. "Just— Just take it slow, okay? Been a while."

'"I can do slow," Reid promised. It actually would suit him fine, given this was his first time penetrating a man.

He kept his word, teasing and distracting Morgan while he eased first one finger inside, and then the second. By the time he added the third, Derek was moaning and begging for more – now. He was fucking himself on Spencer's fingers and it still wasn't enough.

Reid's heart was pounding furiously. He knew that how they handled these next few minutes would define them as sexual partners here on out. Focusing totally on Derek, he stilled his hand.

"Derek, are you with me?" he quietly asked. The other man's eyes were closed and he was panting harshly. "Derek, look at me."

Dark eyes opened and Morgan sucked in a breath as he took in the sight of Spencer crouched between his legs, his hand… Oh, God, it felt so good!

"Spencer," he croaked.

The younger man grinned. "Yeah, I'm going to pull out, and then it'll be the real thing. You ready?"

"Do it!" Morgan demanded.

"Pushy," Reid teased, even as he withdrew his fingers and shifted position.

Even with the preparation, Morgan was tense at first. But Spencer took his time, using his hands to arouse, and talking softly to distract his lover, letting Derek adjust before pushing in farther.

"God," Derek breathed harshly.

"Too much?" Reid panicked, nearly pulling out.

"No! No…" Morgan shook his head, a sensuous smile transforming his expression. "Just the opposite, in fact." He arched his back, trying to take Spencer in deeper.

"Ah, shit!" Reid sucked in a breath, shocked at how close he was already. So hot… so tight. Not like with a woman. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensory overload.

"Spencer," Derek panted. "Goddamn it, move!"

And this time Reid listened. A few more strokes was all it took before he froze in climax. Morgan, though close, wasn't quite with him and so he jerked off, groaning as he slipped over the edge into orgasm.

Reid was mortified. He'd come too soon. Hadn't satisfied his partner. Typical, he thought bitterly. "I— I'm sorry. I—" Spencer closed his mouth, choosing silence over the nervous stuttering that would only get worse.

Morgan battled through the post-orgasmic haze, worried at the self-loathing he heard in the younger man's tone. "Hey…" He tried to get Reid's attention, but Spencer was too focused on withdrawing and cleaning up.

The sudden loss made Derek ache in a way that went beyond the physical, and he lightly grasped Spencer's arm before the younger man could move farther away.

"C'mere," Morgan urged, tugging at Reid until he finally complied. Derek held him close, tipping Reid's face up and kissing him gently. "You were fine, Spencer. Don't shortchange yourself."

"But—"

Derek kissed him again. "No 'buts.' Do you remember what I said yesterday?" He waited for Reid's response.

"Give and take," the other man answered.

"That's right. We're new lovers, Spence. And despite what you might have read, both partners don't always come together on the first try, or all the time." Derek paused to let his words sink in. "Watching you lose it like that, knowing it was because of me? That was hot."

"I thought… I was afraid I'd disappointed you," Reid quietly admitted.

"No way! Nothing could be further from the truth," Morgan assured.

"Good." Spencer followed it up with a yawn.

"We don't have to be up for another couple hours." Derek kissed his lover's forehead, curling closer. "Get some more sleep."

Reid didn't need to be told twice, already drifting off. Content and satiated, Morgan followed suit.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Spencer's friend Ethan returned his call on the third morning before they headed for the van. The other man had to work that morning, but could take the afternoon off, and invited Reid to join him for lunch and to spend the afternoon with him, catching up.

"Hang on, let me check something," Spencer requested. Pressing the mute button on his cell phone, he quickly explained to Derek.

"Go ahead, have some fun!" his lover urged. "You don't need my permission, Spence. And no one's taking attendance on the work crew. Tell Ethan I said hi, and have a good time."

Reid finalized arrangements with his long-time friend before hanging up.

Derek pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. "I'm gonna miss you today. Who's going to protect my virtue?"

Spencer chuckled. "You're a highly trained FBI agent. I doubt you need anyone's protection."

"Okay, so maybe I just need you."

The younger man flushed, but before he could respond they heard the honk of a vehicle horn from the street.

"Guess that's my ride," Derek said. "See you back here for dinner?"

"Count on it," Reid assured, waving as his lover headed out the door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The day's labor passed quickly. The college students, though still prone to fits of giggles and whispers, kept their hands to themselves, Derek was pleased to note.

He missed Spencer's presence more than he would have thought possible. Then again, even though they were new lovers, they had been good friends for years. The intimacy just added another level to an already strong relationship.

At the end of the work day, Morgan wearily climbed into the van. Pulling out his cell phone he saw a text message from Spencer. With a smile, he read that his lover had had a great afternoon with Ethan and would be waiting for Derek when he returned to the hotel.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

They opted for a restaurant closer to the Place d'Arms for their dinner. It had originally been a house, and in keeping with the original spirit of things, the current owners had decided that each room would have its own color scheme and accents.

The room where Derek and Spencer were directed was painted burgundy with white trim. The wooden tables and chairs were of a light pine wood and contrasted nicely. The large bay window let in more than enough natural light to make the room welcoming rather than overbearing.

Derek chose blackened alligator strips while Spencer decided on a seafood sampler. While they waited on their food, Morgan asked about Ethan.

"He's doing pretty good. By day he's teaching music at one of the high schools and by night he's been playing with one of the local bands." Spencer grinned. "It's a lot different from working for the FBI, but he seems happy enough with it."

"That's good." Derek kept his gaze focused on his beer, not wanting Reid to see his expression.

"Hey." When Morgan didn't look up, Spencer waved a hand in front of his face. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was on the other man's mind. Though he had to admit it baffled him. "Hello? Derek, he's an old friend. Not an ex-lover. If he's ever been interested in me that way, he never said."

"And if he did?" Derek wondered, finally looking up.

Reid leaned back in his seat, stunned. It never occurred to him that Morgan could possibly ever feel jealous. The fact that Morgan seemed uncertain of their relationship gave Spencer more confidence. Maybe together they could make this work.

"If he did, and it's a big if, I'd tell him that I'm already with someone, and that would be the end of it." Spencer took Derek's hand and squeezed it gently. "I've got who I want, Derek. You have to know that?"

The shadows in the dark eyes lifted, and Morgan smiled. "Yeah… sorry… guess I got a little possessive there, huh?"

"Maybe just a little," Reid agreed, smiling.

Their meals arrived shortly after and Derek spent the time in between bites telling Spencer about the day's progress on the house, and what they would be expected to accomplish the next day.

By the time they cleared their plates, including sharing an incredibly sinful fudge brownie dessert that Derek swore he'd be working off for the next month, the sun had set. They enjoyed a quiet and leisurely walk back to the hotel. Spencer couldn't help smiling when Derek took his hand as they strolled along, commenting about the attractive scenery while never taking his gaze from his lover for more than a second or two.

There was a middle-aged couple in the pool as they passed by to get to their room. Remembering the pleasant time they'd spent the previous evening, both men quickly changed and headed for an evening swim.

Both were too tired that night to do more than cuddle, and they fell asleep in a comfortable tangle, with Morgan more or less draped like a blanket over his lover.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

At the end of the fourth day of work, the house was nearly finished. Even Morgan, with his experience working on his own homes, was surprised at how quickly and efficiently everything had come together.

During the lunch break, Ms. Dixie called all the volunteers together, asking for their attention. "I have a very special surprise for you wonderful folk," she said, grinning widely. "The fine City of New Orleans wouldn't be what it is today without help from folk like you and everyone recognizes that. A good friend of mine runs a small tour company and as a thank you to all for your work he has put together two sight-seeing tours. One is a history and haunted tour of the French Quarter, the other is a swamp and plantation tour."

Various "ooohs" and "ahhhs" issued from the group and even Morgan had to admit he was impressed. He was jaded enough to admit that he didn't expect anything for free these days.

"See me before your shuttles leave for tickets to which package you'd like." She smiled and added, "And if you see any of our supernatural residents along the way, give them my regards!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Derek looked around at their French Quarter tour group. Though there were a fair number of tourists, he also recognized three of the other law enforcement officers, as well as other volunteers from their site.

The tour guide was a young man who looked to be just slightly older than Derek. He walked with a limp and relied on a heavily decorated cane to aid his balance, but it didn't impede the tour at all. If anything, it added another layer of authenticity to it. He obviously knew his history, too.

Still, Morgan couldn't help smirking when Spencer added some of his own commentary on some of the sites. It was nearly as entertaining as their guide.

At least until they reached the LaLaurie House.

Both men were familiar with the back story. Madame LaLaurie's husband was a noted physician, and Mde. LaLaurie already had a history of mistreating her slaves when a fire broke out at the mansion. Slaves pointed firemen in the direction of the attic.

What they'd found was unspeakable. Dozens of slaves had been tortured to the point of madness and death.

Morgan recalled reading about the LaLaurie House in his college psychology class. The dry facts had given him the shudders; he had a feeling this version would give him nightmares.

Francine Morgan had kept in touch with her late husband's family, wanting her children to know their full heritage. And from that contact, Derek had learned that his father was the descendant of Louisiana slaves.

He couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they'd known, or perhaps even been related to the LaLaurie slaves. He hoped not.

"You okay?" Spencer whispered, catching the lightning fast shiver that raced through Morgan.

"Yeah. Place gives me the creeps." Morgan tried to shake it off.

A block later, Spencer took the opportunity to whisper, "Derek, did you notice the guys behind us?"

"Yeah," Morgan nodded. "They're really startin' to get on my nerves now."

There were three of them, and Morgan estimated they were just barely legal to be drinking. He hadn't seen any beer, but this was New Orleans and alcohol was served in a variety of containers.

The hecklers had been teasing some of the young women in the group, which Morgan noted was now smaller than when they'd first started out. Some of the people must have moved on to other sources of entertainment. And that included the three other law enforcement officers he had identified at the beginning.

Great. That left him and Spencer to deal with this situation if it escalated. And Morgan's instincts warned it was close to happening.

The guide was also aware of them and had already warned them off once. That had kept them silent for a block, but at the next stop the heckling resumed and a beer bottle shattered uncomfortably near the guide.

"Hey, Shortstop!" one of the hecklers called. "I know a better way for you to make money at night!" Another bottle sailed past the guide, shattering behind him.

"This isn't good," Spencer murmured, noting the anxious looks of some of the other tourists.

Morgan nodded agreement. 

"Think we should—?" Before Reid could finish, another bottle went flying past, hitting the tour guide in the shoulder.

The young man staggered and would have gone down if not for his cane and the support from a nearby group member.

Exchanging glances, Morgan and Reid began moving between the group and the hecklers. Morgan saw the guide pull out a cell phone.

"You wanna re-think this, guys," Morgan warned them. "Walk away now and there's no harm done. Stick around and there's gonna be consequences."

"Fuck off," the lead youth snarled.

"I'm calling the cops!" the guide warned.

Another bottle sailed by and this time it hit their guide in the head. He went down hard.

"Shit," Morgan hissed. To the woman next to him, he whispered, "Got a cell phone? Good. Call 911. Tell 'em we need cops and an ambulance."

The youths cheered and began advancing on the tourists.

Derek caught Reid's eye and got a slight nod in return. Morgan knew the younger man was nervous, but would back him fully. It was enough. Spencer didn't like to fight, but he was more than capable of taking care of himself and those around him.

"Hey! Cops are on the way, fellas," Derek yelled, getting the youths' attention. "Why don't you just move along and sleep it off somewhere, huh?"

"Sleep it off?" one of them jeered, swaggering toward Morgan. "Make us, homeboy."

One of the boys was trying to urge his friends to leave, but they weren't paying any attention. Instead, they advanced on Reid and Morgan, obviously looking for a fight.

"You don't want to do this, son," warned Morgan. "We're federal agents and it'll be more trouble than you want to deal with."

Sirens could be heard, approaching fast, much to Morgan's relief. The more timid of the boys grabbed his friends' arms, encouraging them to run. Morgan considered pursuing until he saw the cop car that pulled up to block the end of the street and police on foot joined them, soon taking the three into custody.

To the relief of both agents, the EMT's arrived soon after, and took the now-conscious but dazed tour guide to the hospital to be checked over.

After that it was a matter of wrapping things up with the police. The duty captain personally took their statements. While he finished writing up Reid's, the younger agent talked softly with Morgan.

"You want to walk back to the hotel?" he asked.

Morgan shook his head. "It's been a long day. Let's just call a cab—"

The captain cleared his throat. "My apologies for eavesdropping, gentlemen, but there's no need to call for a cab. I can have one of my men drop you off."

"That's not necessary," Spencer objected. "We can—"

"Son, I insist," the older man said. "You boys are down here giving your time, helping us out and to have to run into something like this…" The cop shook his head as he turned to survey the remaining officers on scene.

"Saunders!" The captain waived a tall African-American officer over. "Give these fine agents a ride back to their hotel."

The office nodded, indicating for Reid and Morgan to follow him to his patrol unit.

"Thanks again, boys," the captain said, shaking both agents' hands in turn. "Hope you get to enjoy some of our hospitality before you leave."

The two men returned the handclasps and Morgan replied, "We already have, sir. Take care."

Wearily, they turned and followed the officer to his waiting car.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following day was the work crew's final one at the house. All of the structural work and roofing would be done. After that, an interior design crew would take over and finish it off.

At lunch time, Ms. Dixie approached Derek and Spencer. She handed over an envelope, which Derek accepted with a puzzled frown.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Mark, your tour guide last night, is a good friend of the family. He told me what happened last night. God knows how much worse it would have been if you boys hadn't been there!"

"Is he okay?" Spencer wondered.

"Slight concussion. He'll be just fine, thanks to you." Gesturing to the envelope, Dixie continued, "That's our way of showing our gratitude."

Derek opened it, then smiled as he passed it over to Spencer. Inside were tickets to the swamp tour and the Myrtles Plantation for the next day.

"That's really cool, Ms. Dixie, but it's totally—"

"No arguments!" She held up her hands. "I insist. It would offend me if you boys don't accept this."

Derek considered pressing the issue but he got the impression that she really meant it, and there was no way he wanted to offend such a sweet lady. Choosing the easier path, he nodded and leaned over, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said.

"Yes, thank you!" Spencer's reaction was much more enthusiastic. "I've read a little about the Myrtles plantation. I'm looking forward to this."

As the work drew to a close late that afternoon, Dixie gathered all the workers together one last time for a quick speech. "If any of you ever find yourselves back here in New Orleans, you're more than welcome to stay with me and my son. After all, you're all put a lot of sweat equity into this place!" She clapped her hands. "Thank you all, and God bless! May you all have safe journeys home to your family and loved ones."

The group laughed and began to disperse to their various shuttles.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following morning as their bus took them outside New Orleans to the starting point of the swamp tour, both men were startled by the scope of the ruins still evident. One of the most obvious was the abandoned Six Flags amusement park.

"Damn." Morgan shook his head. "Seeing the news coverage doesn't give you even half the picture of what went on here."

"That's true," the driver said. "But folks here are resilient, and we're rebuilding our city. It'll be even better than it was – someday."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The weather was perfect for the tour. Not only did they see several alligators, ranging in size from the young to full grown males, but there were several species of birds and spiders on the move as well.

As a bonus, the tour guide even had a baby alligator on board. To Reid's amusement, Morgan outright refused to go near the critter, that was less than eighteen inches in length.

Spencer was more than willing to hold it when given the opportunity, which gave Morgan an opportunity to snap some pictures. It was one he knew he'd cherish just for the look on Spencer's face.

They ate lunch and then took another bus to the plantation for the afternoon tour. As they walked up the wide steps to the wrap-around porch, Spencer heard a young girl's giggle. Knowing there were no children in their group, he looked around.

Peering around the corner of the porch was a Black girl. She looked to be in her early teens. Her clothes were pre-Civil War, or at the very least a convincing recreation. Before he could get Derek's attention, she waved and turned to run off in the other direction.

"Spencer? Hey, man, you coming in?" Morgan softly called.

Not sure he trusted what he'd seen, Spencer shook it off and hurried to join the rest of the group inside.

As they entered the house, Spencer noticed the portrait on the wall in the hallway. He blinked in surprise, recognizing her as the girl he'd seen outside just moments before. He cleared his throat. "Pardon me, who is this?" he asked their guide.

"Oh! That's believed to be a portrait of Chloe. It's believed that she poisoned the family she belonged to. Locals say she didn't mean to kill them. Rather, she wanted to sicken them in order to make them realize they needed her to care for them. Tragic, really."

As the guide continued, Spencer whispered to Derek, "I saw her."

Morgan's eyebrows rose but before he had a chance to question his lover, the tour moved on to another room. He noted that Reid remained unusually quiet throughout the rest of the tour, lost in his own thoughts.

He remained quiet even on the return trip back to the hotel and once back in their room, Morgan gathered his lover into a hug, tangling his hand in the long silky hair.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"I think so. I just can't get that girl – Chloe – out of my head," Reid answered. "I saw her, Derek. As we were heading inside she was standing on the porch, watching me."

Derek blinked in surprise. Before he answered, he took a minute to carefully choose his response. They were both trained federal agents, not given to panic or belief in ghosts.

And yet, they were in New Orleans.

"Guess she needed to be seen today," he finally said. It sounded lame even to his ears, but it was the best he could do.

Reid nodded. Pulling out of his lover's embrace, he said, "So, where are we going to eat tonight?"

"I'm not sure. Hey, do you think Ethan might be free to join us?"

"Really? I can ask him." Pulling out his cell phone, Reid dialed his friend's number. The other man must have picked up, as Spencer said, "Ethan, it's Spencer. We're wondering if you're free for dinner, tonight." Looking over at Morgan, he said, "When and where?"

"The Blue Heron okay with you?" Morgan wondered. "Tell him whenever is good."

Reid nodded and passed along the information. Once everything had been arranged he hung up and turned to Morgan.

"We'll meet at the Blue Heron at eight. Can you call and make the reservations?"

"Sure thing." Derek quickly took care of that detail.

The boys shared a quick and mostly chaste shower and got ready. Derek dressed in black jeans and a burgundy button down shirt. Spencer chose beige chinos with a forest green polo shirt.

They arrived at the restaurant just a few minutes before Ethan and Reid made introductions between the two men.

Conversation was light and easy from the start. Derek found himself liking Spencer's long-time friend.

Just after their entrees had been served, Derek's uncle came out to greet them. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," he apologized. "Staff problems."

"No problem, Finn. This is our friend, Ethan," Morgan said. To Ethan, he said, "My uncle, Finn Connor."

Ethan's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. The Finn Connor? Owns this place, right?"

Finn grinned proudly. "The one and only."

"Hell of a place you've built." Ethan shook the other man's hand. "I'm impressed. I'll be back and I'll recommend it to friends, too."

"That's good to hear!" Reaching in to his pocket, Finn withdrew a card and handed it over. "That will get you and your guests a guaranteed seat and ten percent off your meal."

"Awesome! I'll definitely use it." Ethan grinned, tucking the card in his wallet.

Turning back to Derek, Finn said, "You never did tell me how the clubbing went the other night. Did you get lucky?"

Reid choked on his water as Derek scowled at his uncle.

"What?" the other man wondered, feigning innocence. "Do I know you or what?"

Derek couldn't help grinning in return. "Yeah, you know me. But you don't know Spencer."

"Oh God." Connor looked mortified. Turning to Reid, he said, "I am so sorry. I just assumed— Shit."

Spencer glared daggers at Morgan even as he shook his head. "Not to worry, Finn. Really. It all worked out pretty well."

Derek's grin got even wider.

"Morgan!" Reid glared at his partner.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" Ethan wondered in the same breath. Then he looked closely at his friend, saw how relaxed he was and how close he was sitting to Morgan.

"You dog!" he crowed, his grin rivaling Morgan's. "You said there was someone special. You didn't say it was a guy, or that it was someone you work with!"

Morgan wanted to come to Spencer's defense, but realized he didn't need to. This was something the two old friends needed to work out. Spencer wouldn't think him for interfering.

"Is that a problem?" Reid asked neutrally. When Ethan looked confused, he clarified, "That I'm with a guy, I mean."

"Spence, come on! We've been friends for a long time, now. Who you're with is none of my business, as long as you're happy."

"I am." Reid looked at Morgan, smiling widely. The other man took a chance and reached out to take his hand, entwining their fingers.

"Ross!" Finn flagged down a passing server. "Bring a bottle of our finest champagne for the happy couple."

Finn shared one drink with the young men before giving his nephew a hug, then returning to running his business.

When the three younger men were alone again, Ethan asked, "How long have you two been together?"

Reid and Morgan exchanged a look, then Morgan shrugged, indicating that Spencer should answer. "It's a recent thing," the young genius finally admitted. "Still new to us."

"You look good together. Comfortable," the musician noted. "Good luck to you both."

"Luck?" Morgan echoed. "What for?"

"The whole coworker-slash-federal-agent thing," Ethan said. "Don't tell me you think the FBI isn't going to have a problem with two of its agents – male at that – sleeping together."

Derek shrugged. "Like you said earlier, no one's business but ours." He gently squeezed Spencer's hand, hoping to convey his confidence in them.

Reid's wide smile told Derek he'd given the right answer.

The three men stayed a while longer, sharing stories and in the case of Morgan and Ethan, getting to know each other better. After an hour, Ethan checked the time and frowned. "Sorry, guys, but I'm going to have to bail on you. I have an early morning tomorrow."

They stood and walked out together. Once on the sidewalk, Ethan pulled Spencer into a tight hug. "Take care, man. And don't be such a stranger," he commanded.

Then the musician turned to Morgan, holding out a hand. "It was good getting to know you. Just don't break his heart, okay?"

"Ethan!" Reid protested.

Morgan didn't appear offended, only nodding in acknowledgment. "Nice to know Spencer has someone else to watch his back. I'll keep it in mind."

Ethan nodded and walked off in the direction of his apartment.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Much later that evening, Reid startled awake, sweat leaving a layer of moisture on his skin that chilled him. The dream was still vivid in his mind's eye and he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep right away.

Realizing that Morgan was still soundly sleeping, Spencer slipped out of bed, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt then quietly headed out to the courtyard. The air was heavy with moisture, almost oppressive. It matched his mood at the moment.

Taking a seat by the fountain, he ran through some of the thought exercises he frequently used to focus himself.

Why did he keep dreaming about the LaLaurie slaves? And, more importantly, why was he seeing Derek as one of them? It was disturbing in more ways than he could count.

"Hey." Strong arms wrapped around him and he leaned back into the embrace. "Can't sleep?"

Spencer shrugged. "I keep having this weird dream." Knowing Morgan would ask him to elaborate, he continued, "I keep dreaming you're one of the LaLaurie slaves."

Morgan flinched. "Ouch, lover. It's not impossible, I guess. My dad's family were slaves back in the day, but he never said where."

"Hmm," was Reid's acknowledgment.

"So, what's really on your mind, Spence?" Morgan wondered, tightening his arms briefly.

The younger man shrugged, clearly uncomfortable at the question. But he took a steadying breath before answering. "You'll think I'm being a clingy girl."

"Hey, I can't take care of the problem if I don't know what it is. Talk to me, pretty boy."

Looking miserable, Reid nodded. "I'm afraid you might not want me when we leave here," he finally admitted.

"Wow." Derek whistled. "Okay, so I didn't see that coming. But Spence, this isn't a one-off or— or a vacation fling. I wouldn't do that to a coworker. Someone I cared about."

"Yeah, but your reputation—" Spencer broke off, uncomfortable.

Morgan tried to keep calm, knowing this was important, and something they had to deal with. "People see and hear what they expect, Spence. I don't fuck everyone I've been out with. And I never stayed with anyone for long, because none of them wanted to stay with me, either," the older man explained. "Yeah, I've played around. But that's not what this is. I promise you."

Reid nodded, content with that for now. He wasn't naïve; he knew they would have other issues to deal as they went along. Hopefully they could always be this honest with each other.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Their flight home the next day didn't leave until noon, so they decided to skip the hotel's continental breakfast. Instead they walked down the street to Café Du Monde for beignets before they caught the shuttle to the airport.

Morgan almost choked when he breathed in, too close to the powdered sugar confections. Spencer pounded on his back until the other man finally got his breathing back under control.

"Damn, I'd heard these things were lethal, but they weren't kidding!"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Somehow I don't think that's what they were referring to, Derek."

They made a quick stop at one of the souvenir shops for last-minute gifts for their teammates before heading back to finish packing. They managed to time it so that they were checking out as the airport shuttle pulled up.

The shuttle was packed, so the two men spent most of the ride in silence. At the airport they quickly checked in and headed for their gate. As they took seats, waiting for the flight to be called, Spencer nudged his lover.

"Hey, what's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking… I'd love to come back down here some day," Morgan said, squeezing Reid's hand. "With you. There's so much to see and do here."

The younger man smiled. "I'd love that. If we can ever get Hotch to sign off on both of us being gone at the same time again."

"Yeah." Morgan was already plotting how to accomplish that. It was rare, but it had happened in the past. Chances were they'd have an opportunity again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

One Week Later

 

"I finally got the pictures developed from our trip," Spencer told Derek over lunch on Thursday. "I haven't had a chance to look at them yet."

Pulling out a photo envelope, he handed it over to Derek. They studied the pictures together and at the last one, Derek gasped.

"Hey, Spence, did you set a timer on your camera one night?"

"What?" The younger man shook his head, puzzled. "No, why would I do that?"

Morgan handed over the photo in question, watching Spencer's eyes get comically wide as he saw a perfectly focused picture of the two of them spooned together in bed.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "The desk clerk was right!"

"About what?"

"I overheard one of the other guests asking if the hotel was haunted. The desk clerk said she'd never seen anything personally, but every so often guests have reported an extra picture at the end of their roll, or card. It's always a picture of the room's occupants, sleeping."

Morgan shivered theatrically. "That's kind of weird."

"It's New Orleans, Derek," the younger man reminded him. "Weird is actually commonplace there."

"Good point."

Derek tucked the picture into his jacket pocket. He wasn't about to share with their teammates, but he definitely wanted his own copy of the photo.

"C'mon, man, time to get back, or Hotch is gonna send out a search party."

Derek knew their team lead already suspected something. The best way to keep their boss guessing was to stick to their old patterns as much as possible. While they had occasionally gone to lunch together they were never late in returning. He wasn't about to start now.

"Back to reality," Spencer grimaced.

"Hey, I like my reality… now that it has you in it!" Morgan grinned as a pink tinge spread over his lover's face.

"Me, too," Reid said.

Bumping shoulders companionably, they headed out the door of the diner and began the short walk back to the Federal Building.

 

~~~ fin ~~~

**Author's Note:**

> My girlfriend's favorite city is New Orleans. She tries to vacation there at least once a year, more if possible. This story was plotted over a couple of our trips there. The hotel where Morgan and Reid stay is real, as is the room. We stayed there. :-) The Blue Heron, sadly, is NOT real. Just so you know...


End file.
